


Even Trade

by yeaka



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Anthropomorphic, Deaf Character, M/M, Self-Lubrication, Sign Language, Smauglock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:52:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1280119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo bargains his way to the arkenstone. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Trade

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Even Trade](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1657355) by [ogawaryoko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ogawaryoko/pseuds/ogawaryoko)



> A/N: "Drabble" for top!Bilbo, bottom!Smaug request from sherlock-and-john-getting-it-on on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/). Thank you so much to Abbeyjewel for the beta work! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The meeting goes, all and all, far better than expected. For starters, Bilbo’s not dead yet. He doesn’t have the stone, which he most certainly plans to fix, but being alive is still decidedly noteworthy.

In fact, he’s standing, proudly firm, while Smaug swirls down into a tornado of magic that sends coins scattering and Bilbo’s hair and coattails whipped back in the wind. Bilbo has to gulp and fight to keep the surprise and nervousness off his face, but then, he’s made it this far, he tells himself. The fear somewhat dissipated when he learned Smaug could speak, and the longer they did talk, the longer he stood still alive, the more the fear trickled away. But he’d be foolish not to have some manner of anxiety still in him; he’s never seen a transformed dragon before.

When the wind dies and the floor of treasure settles, Smaug is left standing there, a whole new body that catches Bilbo’s breath in his throat. Smaug’s bow lips twitch into a smirk, and he stretches out one long, elegant leg, stepping closer. He climbs down through the hill of gold, tail slithering behind him, subdued wings folded along his back, body not that different from a man’s. Except it’s tinged red in places. His dark hair’s curled, his still-gold eyes sharp, his new, peach skin all exposed, supple and slender. He’s taller than Bilbo, but he’s _much_ prettier, and Bilbo forces himself not to turn pink at the man’s nakedness. Very good-looking nakedness, at that. Smaug stops in front of him, close enough to reach out and touch.

Where ears would be on a man, Smaug’s horns remain intact, shooting out from his skull in a regal, makeshift crown. Smaug tilts his head when he looks at Bilbo, still grinning, and Bilbo clears his voice and admits, “Impressive. I must say, I do feel more comfortable bargaining this way.” _Bargaining_. He never thought he’d be bargaining with a dragon, let alone a dragon in a man’s body. And never mind one so... alluring. Dragon magic is truly a fascinating feat. Bilbo rocks on his heels and waits for some semblance of explanation, hyper aware of how Smaug’s still iridescent eyes are fixated on his lips.

After a minute of nothing, Bilbo blinks and squints, asking, “Er, you can hear me, can’t you?” Because the more he looks at it, the more he’s sure that Smaug’s horns are in an unfortunate location. He lifts a finger to his own ear, suddenly self-conscious. Rubbing the shell, he accidentally glances down again, then darts back up with a sheepish grimace. This body’s well shaped _everywhere_. When Smaug’s not-entirely-limp manhood twitches below, it’s incredibly hard not to look. It’s not quite as thick as Bilbo’s is, but it’s still a respectable size, rosy pink and plenty enticing. Too enticing for a creature that could eat him whole, really. He’d offer his coat, but he doubt it’d fit around Smaug’s tall, lean frame. It’d certainly make it easier to talk, though. ...Assuming, of course, they can still talk.

After a while, Smaug shakes his head, and Bilbo blinks.

“Oh, you can’t? You can’t hear like this?” Then, on nothing but instinct, he lifts his hands to sign it. He doesn’t expect Smaug to understand, but there’s no harm in trying. It’s not like he never met a Deaf hobbit before, even if he’s never met a horned one. Smaug’s eyes dart down and open very, very wide.

His smile splits his face, mouth opening to display comfortingly regular teeth, not the sharp spikes Bilbo half expected. He doesn’t answer, and Bilbo, half sure it was understood but wanting to be _completely_ sure, signs, _You don’t talk like this?_

Smaug shakes his head.

Before Bilbo can stop himself, he answers, _That’s a shame; you have a lovely voice._ And lovely’s the polite word for it, but Bilbo already regrets his little outburst, despite Smaug’s soft chuckle. Well, maybe flattery will help. It’s not hollow flattery. Smaug’s chuckle is deep, like it was in a dragon’s form, naturally purring and sweetly seductive and Bilbo’s suddenly very glad for his ears.

Smaug tells him quietly in that same sinful tone, only a tad deformed but no less intoxicating, “I still have that voice.” His long, slim fingers, tipped in sharp claws, tell Bilbo: _And I can read lips, though it may take me a moment to be sure. But I am very glad, and surprised, that you know Middle Sign. I thought it a dead language to men._

Bilbo answers easily, _I’m not a man; I’m a hobbit. They still teach it in the Shire._

Smaug looks like he’s about to laugh again, but instead he just shakes his head. He takes a step to the side, around Bilbo, and Bilbo turns to follow—thoughts of negotiating are becoming harder to latch onto; Smaug really is a fascinating creature. Bilbo has to wonder if the dwarves knew of this form. He’s lucky Smaug opted for it, though he’s still not quite sure _why_. Maybe just to show off this beauty. Maybe just to impress. If that was it, it’s working.

Smaug takes a slow, drawn out circle around Bilbo, eyes unabashedly scanning Bilbo’s fully-clothed body, and Bilbo feels the heat of his too many layers in the fire-lit caverns. He stands as tall as he can, still and determined; he’s made it this far, and Smaug couldn’t eat him like this; there’d at least be enough time to get the ring on again.

When Smaug makes it back to Bilbo’s front, he signs languidly, _I must admit, I’m impressed with your bravery._

Bilbo answers with a curt, _Thank you._ And then, while they’re being nice, _I’m impressed with your... magic._ And by that, he means body. Smaug’s beautiful, beautiful body. Smaug seems to glow, preen at the compliment, but he still doesn’t explain why he’s done it. So Bilbo, forcing himself to come to his senses, presses on, _But anyway, the reason I wanted to talk to you is that I’d like to trade for the arkenstone._ There is no word for it, so Bilbo has to spell ‘arkenstone’ out. Smaug spells it twice as fast.

 _The arkenstone?_ Smaug lifts one eyebrow, but he doesn’t laugh, doesn’t snap or pull away. Bilbo nods: yes. Smaug shakes his head and looks aside, brown curls bouncing attractively. There’s something about the shape of his face, his high cheekbones and his strong jaw and the curve of his lips, that makes him the sort of ethereal epitome of handsomeness no real man could ever hope for. _And what will you trade for it?_

This... is sort of where Bilbo runs out. The dwarves didn’t ask him to trade. They asked him to _steal_ , but then, they didn’t know Smaug would be very much alive, very much awake, willing to swirl down into a man that Bilbo could properly take on. If anything, not knowing about this form makes it worse—they sent him to a likely death—but now he’s here, and that’s that. He shrugs his shoulders and asks, _What do you want?_ He’s not sure what he’s expecting and even less sure what he has.

He’s most certainly _not_ expecting Smaug to take that final step between them. Smaug closes the little gap and drops one hand, cupping Bilbo’s crotch suddenly and firmly through his trousers, fingers giving one light, teasing squeeze. Bilbo gasps instantly, painfully aware of how he’s already semi-hard from just seeing Smaug naked. He’d hoped his somewhat baggy clothes would hide that, but Smaug leaves nothing to the imagination. He flashes his toothy smile at Bilbo’s face, purring, though it’s obvious, “This?”

Bilbo shoves Smaug away. It takes a moment of resolve, but he manages, pushing at Smaug’s shoulders and surprised when Smaug lets go. Half a step back, Smaug regards him levelly, while Bilbo blinks and breathes hard. He lifts his hands, but he doesn’t know what to say. Somehow, he doesn’t think Smaug’s wanting to eat him crotch-first. _You... you want...?_

 _It’s lonely for a dragon._ He tries to step forward again, but Bilbo holds out an arm, holding him back, and Smaug respects the space, waiting. There’s no way he missed that Bilbo’s body is already halfway convinced, but Bilbo’s mind is still taking the hit. _I have a certain… hunger._ His face construes the word into its double meaning: Smaug _wishes_ , _desires_ him. Bilbo’s biting his lip.

As though there’s any way Bilbo could fail to connect the dots, Smaug leans down, and somehow the smooth slide of his fingers has become just as alluring as his voice when he signs, _I like you, hobbit. You are... intriguing. I believe a trade of sorts wouldn’t be completely out of the question..._

Bilbo feels like he should think about this a lot longer than he actually does.

When the dwarves first came to him, no one said anything about trading his _body_ for their quest. He considers himself a somewhat respectable hobbit, despite the whole adventuring business, and selling himself is quite out of his expertise, but... well, the arkenstone’s worth the whole kingdom, isn’t it? And apparently, that’s what Bilbo’s worth.

Bilbo’s a bit taken aback with that realization, and it’s a struggle for him not to show that on his face; he’s trying not to show weakness. Although, being brave seems like much less of a priority now that he knows what Smaug _really_ wants out of him.

And Smaug is just so... _so_...

“Alright,” Bilbo mumbles, dazed. He realizes a split second later he’s been rude, and he signs it, too. Smaug flashes his toothy grin again, taking another step, but Bilbo pushes him back again, only to force his trembling fingers to say, _You want companionship for the arkenstone?_

Smaug nods.

_That’s it._

Smaug’s eyes glance down, staring very obviously at their target, and he signs, _I want that._

 _My..._ Bilbo pauses before he manages to finish, struggling to remember the sign and willing himself to say it, _my cock._

Smaug nods again and licks his lips rather obviously, and it’s too long and pink to be natural, deliberately slow as it traces and slicks each centimeter of his plush mouth. Another jolt of interest sparks unhelpfully down Bilbo’s spine, and he shivers. He waits for Smaug to give more stipulations, but he doesn’t, leaving Bilbo with the uncomfortable decision of deciding just how much hobbit cock one arkenstone is worth. Probably a little more than infinity, but... Bilbo’s starting to worry that if he stays down here too long, he’ll never go back up, and not at all for being eaten.

It’s too tempting to waste time naming long, drawn out terms, and Bilbo tries to think of the dwarves that are waiting for him, that will worry if he takes as many days as he’d like to spend exploring Smaug’s body. Besides, he can’t very well tip his hand and show just how eager he is for it, even if his body’s already saying as much. Somehow, rather amazingly, the ball’s ended up in Bilbo’s court. Feeling the weight of that power, he silently stirs himself up and signs almost rigidly, _So the deal is: I fuck you, I get the arkenstone._ He’s waiting to be told he’s wrong.

Arching an other eyebrow, Smaug asks, _Just once?_

_...Yes._

_And your cock is worth that?_

Definitely not. He signs: _Yes._ The dwarves are never going to believe him when he gets back; he’ll need to make up some grand story about staining Sting with dragon blood or some such nonsense. If Smaug wants more than once, he’s sure not going to say no, but... he’s already wondering how the hell he’s going to tear himself away to leave. Maybe that’s Smaug’s evil plan.

But Smaug surprises Bilbo yet again by slowly sinking down to his knees. He looks up at Bilbo with his great, crimson wings neatly folded behind him and his crown of horns throwing long shadows down the curve of his back, and he signs oddly delicately, _Then may I have a test run? I think if I’m going to give you such a precious treasure, I should at least see what I’m getting in return..._ When his hands are done, they land on Bilbo’s waistband.

Bilbo can’t believe Smaug’s _asking_. He could _take_ it. Bilbo’s more than ready to say yes, mostly just because his cock’s straining so hard against his trousers that the confines are becoming painful. He nods, and because he’s already soaking with sweat from the stifling heat, he shuffles his jacket off his shoulders.

As soon as it hits the floor, Smaug’s fingers work, careful with the claws, to undo the buttons holding Bilbo inside. Smaug’s too good at this, too skilled, and in a moment, he’s pulling Bilbo right out into the air, achingly hard in Smaug’s warm hands. They clutch at his thick base, and Bilbo groans, but he doesn’t close his eyes—he’s too busy watching the way Smaug’s widen. They flicker up happily, smirk growing, and he lets go long enough to sign, _You’re well endowed, for a short thing._ Having spent some time with dwarves and men and seen a dragon itself, Bilbo knows he’s well endowed for anyone.

He tries not to let the compliment go to his head, and he gasps as Smaug leans forward to run that too-long tongue up the length of his cock. The pleasure is immediate and shocking in it’s intensity—if he didn’t know better, he’d say dragon saliva was an aphrodisiac. The way Smaug’s silky pink tongue wraps around his shaft is absolutely sinful, the way Smaug’s plush lips follow no better. Smaug licks his way from base to tip, thoroughly exploring, hands rising to cup Bilbo’s heavy balls. Smaug reaches the veiled head and opens his lips around it, popping on abruptly. There’s no time for Bilbo to prepare for the immediate bliss that follows, only aided by the sight of Smaug’s pretty mouth stretched around him. Smaug’s face was already pretty, but it’s _gorgeous_ when it’s full of cock. If Bilbo were younger and less experienced, he’d probably come on the spot.

Instead, he’s impressively still as Smaug pops off and nuzzles into his crotch, inhaling deeply and lazily signing around the other side, _I want your fat cock, Bilbo Baggins. I think we have a deal._

Bilbo lets out a sigh that might be relief, but is probably loss, when Smaug pulls away.

Smaug rises back to his feet, and, without another word, he leaps from their current pile of coins and soars to the next hill, his wings magnificently unfolded in the dark cavern air. He touches down again and sinks into the new mounds of treasure, falling gracefully to his hands and knees. He lies down on his stomach and parts his thighs, legs bent at the knee and feet idly kicking in the air. His tail swishes aside, wings out of the way of his glorious ass, and over his shoulder he beckons with one finger.

Bilbo doesn’t have to be told twice.

He races down the slope of coins so fast that he nearly stumbles, one hand grabbing at his waistband to keep his trousers up. The fact that he’s still mostly clothed and Smaug is naked is just one more subtle power trip to his already muddled head—he’s going to get to fuck a _dragon_. What’s he bothering with Thorin for? For a brief second, Bilbo’s hysterical mind thinks _he_ should be king of the mountain.

Smaug waits patiently for Bilbo’s arrival, and as Bilbo finally reaches him, he spreads his thighs even farther apart. Bilbo stops where he is, towering over Smaug, breathing hard and staring down at the ripe, round ass in front of him, perfectly pert and taut and cutely dimpled and just about everything he could ever ask for in a man’s ass. He can see Smaug’s red balls squished against the floor, and just above them, his cheeks part for a pink trail that hides his little hole. It’s a tiny, puckered thing, and just looking at it makes Bilbo’s mouth go dry. He falls down to his knees and still can’t believe this is happening.

Something nudges Bilbo’s shoulder, and he looks at the swaying tail, then up to Smaug’s face, where Smaug’s signing, _If you open me, I will grow wet for you._

Bilbo weakly asks, _Magic?_

_You’re learning._

A self-lubricating dragon. Good lord. No wonder the dwarves are so afraid of him—Smaug could topple whole armies just with one set of batting bedroom eyes. If he wiggled his ass even a little bit, they’d be crawling in droves to swear fealty to him instead.

And here Bilbo’s going to leave him for a bunch of uncouth, overdressed dwarves. The stupidity of the ‘plan’ is really starting to set in.

Trying to focus in on the task at hand, and helped along by his aching cock, Bilbo reaches out to touch the firm cheeks in front of them. As soon as his hands are on them, Smaug shivers, releases a breath he can’t hear but Bilbo can, and the warmth and softness makes Bilbo moan himself. He spreads his fingers out to clutch as much as he can, and he squeezes, kneads the silky flesh, fully certain there’s no better ass in the world. And it’s all _his_.

He brings his thumbs down the crack in the middle, and he wrenches it open to get a proper look at Smaug’s hole. It twitches invitingly under the attention. The whole area is fiery pink, but the furrowed muscles themselves are nearly red, radiating heat like a dog’s and like every other part of Smaug. Bilbo presses one thumb into it and looks up at the way Smaug’s neck arches, head tossing back. Bilbo presses in slowly, shocked when he manages to pop the tip inside.

Smaug groans, and his ass tightens. It bucks into the ground, sucking and holding onto and taking Bilbo’s thumb with it, and Bilbo watches in utter fascination as Smaug starts to steadily hump his pile of treasure. It brings his ass up and down on Bilbo’s finger, impaling himself, and for a few minutes, all Bilbo can do is stare.

Then he’s shoving his thumb in as far as it’ll go, lapping up Smaug’s delighted scream, and immediately starts to fuck Smaug with it. Smaug was right; his walls are already moist, and they slick more and more as Bilbo slides against them, burrowing knuckle-deep every time. After a few thrusts, he pulls out his thumb and shoves two fingers in instead. Smaug’s ass lifts off the ground, and he takes them just as well, even when Bilbo spreads them open and scissors Smaug apart. Smaug’s ass is practically _asking for it._

By the time Bilbo pulls his dripping digits out, he’s finger-fucked Smaug so thoroughly that Smaug’s shuddering, ass hovering in the air and leaning back as though desperate for more. Bilbo uses one hand to steady it, the other on his base. He lines the tip of his cock up with Smaug’s now-open hole—it feels so good just touching it—and on his next intake of breath, he slams inside.

Smaug arches his whole body, head to the side and mouth open soundlessly, and Bilbo roars with the pleasure. There’s no caution—he dives balls-deep on the first thrust and has zero regrets. Smaug’s ass is _so tight_ , and it spasms around him as it tries to adjust, the convulsions itself pure bliss. Bilbo can’t move yet—he’s too busy being overwhelmed. Smaug’s ripe cheeks are squished up against him, tufts of his own pubic hair peeking over, and he wants to push back just so he can see Smaug’s asshole stretched around his cock. He opens his mouth, about to ask if he’s big enough for Smaug’s tastes, but then he remembers that Smaug’s not looking at him and won’t hear. Bilbo stares at the back of his pretty head and fights the urge to grab a chunk of brown curls and jerk them back. Are dragons into hair pulling? Bilbo just wants to fuck Smaug stupid.

Instead, he pulls out slowly, only halfway, just enough to get the view he wanted. Gorgeous. He stabs back in, teeth grit and thighs tight, it’s an inferno in there, and he slips out again. He sets into fucking Smaug hard into ground, slamming him down so hard that coins and jewels start to slip away, their legs a tangled mess as they lie in all the splendor. It can’t be comfortable for Smaug’s trapped cock, but Bilbo can’t care. He wants to tell Smaug how amazing this is, but Smaug can’t see.

Bilbo jerks out with a surge of will power, panting as he slaps Smaug’s ass. Smaug looks over his shoulder, and Bilbo tugs his tail, signing fast, _Wanna look at your face._ Smaug licks his lips, eyes half lidded and cheeks dusty. _Ride me instead._ Without waiting for an answer, he rolls onto his own back, bucking his hips in the air, hard, wet cock shimmering in the firelight. At first, Smaug doesn’t look amused at being left empty, but a quick look at Bilbo’s bouncing dick and he’s pushing up.

In a heartbeat, Smaug’s straddling Bilbo’s body, just as pretty like this, more so with his whole front exposed. He climbs over Bilbo’s lap, wings spread, tail trickling down and coiling over Bilbo’s leg, rubbing just for more friction. Bilbo’s foot teases the end of it, and it flicks over and drags through the hair between his ankle and his toes. Smaug hovers over his cock, and Bilbo doesn’t even have to help—Smaug lines himself up.

Smaug drops himself on, mouth falling open and eyes closing, breaking into a deep blush as Bilbo growls and bucks up into him. He bounces in the air, mewling another pretty sound, and he croons and runs his hands over Bilbo’s chest, palms grazing Bilbo’s nipples through his shirt. Bilbo’s gripping Smaug’s thighs so tight they’re turning red. Smaug’s cock is rock solid and bounces wildly as Bilbo starts to fuck him, tossing him up with each powerful thrust. Smaug helps and uses his own weight for momentum, taking it so beautifully. Now Bilbo can sign, _You’re amazing._ And it’s useless and generic but so, so true. Smaug grins through his lust-filled haze. Bilbo adds, _This is better; now I can appreciate how pretty you are..._

Smaug lets go of Bilbo’s chest to sign coyly, _I’m not pretty from behind?_

It’s hard to concentrate on a conversation with how wonderful Smaug feels, but at least signing is easier than speaking probably would be; trying to breathe is a full time job. His hips are on autopilot, going haywire. Smaug starts to touch himself with one hand while he waits for Bilbo’s answer, and as much as Bilbo’s tempted to swat Smaug away, the sight’s too good to stop. Finally, Bilbo sets on, _I wanted to look at your face when I fuck you._

Smaug bristles with praise, and Bilbo doesn’t miss the way his wings twitch. They’re fully spread now, nearly trembling as Smaug goes. The air’s thick with slapping sounds, curling with the heavy stench of sex. Smaug signs with the hand he isn’t using to stroke himself, _You like it that much?_

Bilbo’s gone back to petting Smaug’s thighs, so he just nods. His finger marks are carved into the supple flesh, and he finds he likes that, wants to add more marks that show Smaug as _his_. When Smaug’s hand leaves his twitching cock, Bilbo nearly forces it back.

Instead, he lets Smaug sign, _Then why would you want the arkenstone when you could have this face and a **dragon** instead?_

 _Fuck_. Bilbo doesn’t sign it, but he thinks it, and his head tilts back in the gold, hips still going wild. It doesn’t matter if the floor’s jagged and hard beneath his ass; Smaug’s soft and smooth around his cock. He should’ve known this would happen. And it’s true. _He’s_ the one that should be paying _Smaug_ for this. Then he imagines Smaug as some sort of royal consort and he moans, so damn lucky.

 _Stay with me,_ Smaug flashes fiercely, hands shooting down after to grip Bilbo’s shoulders while he grinds himself on Bilbo’s cock. Bilbo shakes his head, but his hands are already running up Smaug’s arms. He wants to pull Smaug down and kiss, but he knows that as soon as he does it, he’ll be done for.

He forces himself to sign, _Don’t be greedy; you’re getting the cock you want._ Smaug actually has the nerve to pout, looking far too adorable for any fire breathing drake.

Then he dives down, flattening into Bilbo’s body all at once, and as soon as Bilbo’s opened his mouth to gasp, Smaug’s tongue is surging into it. Smaug’s bow lips press firmly into his, and he’s sure that saliva is an aphrodisiac, because he spikes instantly into a hurricane of pleasure. Smaug’s tongue traces every part of his mouth, mapping the walls and the lines of his teeth and smoothing over his own tongue, making him shiver every time. He grabs at Smaug’s shoulders, holding him down. Bilbo’s fingers thread through Smaug’s hair, brushing past the horns, and for a moment, it’s almost like they’re cuddling, except that Bilbo’s still relentlessly fucking Smaug’s ass.

When Smaug breaks the kiss, Bilbo won’t let him go, clings to his shoulders and fists his hair, so Smaug just presses their foreheads together, panting warm breath across Bilbo’s face. A second later, he shrieks in Bilbo’s ear, and every muscle in his body tenses, his back curving down and his ass rocking hard against the base of Bilbo’s cock. His shaft twitches between them and bursts one hot jet of cum after the other, spurting all over both their chests, far more than any normal hobbit or man should have in them. Smaug comes and comes and writhes and whimpers, then stills, still rocking onto Bilbo while his flagging cock dips happily against Bilbo’s stomach.

Bilbo comes right after, mostly because Smaug’s ass is spasming around him and milking it out. He screams as he fills Smaug up, and he grabs Smaug’s hips to make sure he buries it deep. He wants Smaug so full of cum that he can never be clean again, and to be sure of it, Bilbo rubs it all in, trying to hide and plant bits of seed everywhere. When Bilbo finally gets the wherewithal to look at Smaug’s face instead of at blackness and a general nowhere, he finds Smaug’s face scrunched up beautifully and lips stuck open, silently whining as his body’s manipulated to Bilbo’s needs. It’s so, _so_ hot, and if Bilbo hadn’t just come more than he ever has in his life, he’d probably be instantly hard again.

Instead, he settles back, groaning loudly and patting Smaug’s hip—that’s good, nice and full. Smaug takes a moment before he pulls off, shuddering.

He sits down beside Bilbo and reaches for Bilbo’s cock, scooping a stray bit of cum off. Bilbo hazily watches Smaug bring it to his lips and lick it away, sucking his lips into his mouth after and then leaning down to lap up more. Bilbo groans in delight and lets Smaug suck away at his spent cock, until he’s sitting back up and signing, _I like hobbit cum. I want more._ He works at licking the remnants off his face and sucking on his fingers, claws and all.

Exhausted but still able to recognize a damn good thing, Bilbo lazily signs, _I’ll think about it._ That’s not part of the deal, but... he’s already thinking about it. _Damn_. That was... better than anything the dwarves could offer him.

He’s not an entirely selfish person, but... it’s hard to picture Smaug as something evil now, something to be chased out and defeated. He sold his best jewel and a great round with his body for a single taste of Bilbo’s cock; how fearsome can he really be? As he leans down to kiss Bilbo’s chest and nuzzle into the crook of Bilbo’s neck, settling down half atop him, Bilbo knows he’s in trouble.

Smaug’s wings slide over them enough to dim most of the light, but there’s still enough to see the glint of hands should they need to communicate. Smaug’s tail curls protectively around Bilbo’s body, and Smaug hums against his skin, so peaceful in this post-coital fest. In a way, Smaug’s oddly cute.

Well, Bilbo can always take the arkenstone and give it to the dwarves, now that he’s earned it.

But, he thinks, there’s no real reason that he can’t _also_ stay here and have a dragon, really.... He’s seriously going to have to reexamine his priorities.

But first, he’s got to lie here with a gorgeous dragon that’s tracing light circles on his stomach, wondering how and why this bizarre circumstances feels more like _home_ than his old hole in the ground ever could.

**Author's Note:**

> Sketch on [my tumblr.](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/78836243031/smaugbo-pic-for-my-pwp-fic-even-trade-wherein)


End file.
